Maid
by FireyFreedom
Summary: Stiles is insane, Derek is turned on, and things get steamy. Sterek


So, Stiles is insane. It is a well-known and accepted fact. Even Scott sometimes has issues following his train of thought. In the few months Derek's known the two incredibly annoying teens he has come to recognize that Stiles is both brilliant and insane and the two characteristics are inexplicably intertwined. So usually when Stile's is being crazier than usual there's a reason.

All of which to say Derek has no idea what the fuck is going on. At all. Or why he's this turned on.

Stiles is shaking a feather duster at him and ranting about dust and health, and some other thinly veiled metaphors, and Derek should be concentrating on this, because it's probably one of those moments where Stiles is being insightful but mother of God the boy's legs look good.

Oh, did Derek fail to mention what Stiles is wearing while shaking aforementioned feather duster? A maid's dress. A really short, really tight black dress, with a frilly white apron, honest to god stockings (Derek can see the upper hem and the place where they clip onto what must be lacy underwear), and obscenely tall, black, heels.

So yes, Derek should be paying attention to the words coming out of Stiles' mouth and not all the filthy things he suddenly wants to do to this boy.

The alpha opens his mouth— he's really not sure what he means to say but its definitely not "Where did you get that outfit?"

Stiles knows he's insane alright. He's always been well aware of it, and always accepted it because, hey, he's also brilliant. So he rolls with the madness, embraces the weird mental jumps and learned to walk in stripper heels in sixth grade. He will forever blame that story on Scott and never speak of it again. Point is Stiles gets that everyone thinks he's kind of a flake. No attention span, his teachers say, even if he is ridiculously smart. And he's fine with that because he's intuitive enough to know how to get through life.

So when he sees the way Derek mopes around his family home that was burned down and looks like it's going to fall down if _Stiles_ breathes too hard— never mind Derek's extra wolfy strength— he understands that it's just another part of the older man being mentally fucked to hell. He also gets that Derek's not moving anytime soon; and that it's really none of his business, but since when has Stiles ever given a crap?

So he comes up with a plan, one that involves keeping the good memories and helping Derek to move on from the bad. It also involves a maid costume that Stiles will deny owning until his dying day.

So when Derek's first question is "Where did you get that outfit?" Stiles just smirks.

"That's my secret, now; let me clean your house?"

Derek blinks slowly, in that actually completely adorable way of his, and says slowly, "You want to clean my house?"

"Yep."

Stiles proceeds to wander around flitting the duster over random things.

Okay, so he has no intention to actually clean, just to get the wolf to clean up his own damn house.

"Why are you in a dress?"

"Well, I won't be your beta, so I'm filling in as your maid."

"My maid?" Derek repeats, and suddenly there's something dangerous in the way he says 'my'.

Stiles swallows around a dry throat that is suddenly screaming 'this was a bad fucking idea'. "Yep, your own personal maid. Unless you need a dead body buried, in which case—"

He is cut off by Derek's laugh. Wow. He's never heard Derek actually laugh before and whoa damn is it sexy. It's low and rich and there's that same danger in it.

"My personal maid." The alpha is smirking and heaven above what has Stiles gotten himself into, "Come here then. I want to see how you walk in those heels."

Okay, this has definitely moved from therapy into something else, but Stiles obeys the command anyway, sauntering towards the couch on which the Alpha is resting, heels clicking loudly against the floor.

"Turn in a circle."

Stiles obeys, feeling like he's on display and suddenly there's a slow, uncertain heat in his stomach.

Derek's nose flairs, he can smell the sudden change in the teen and yeah, responsibility can go fuck itself. The dress clings perfectly to Stiles' ass, and Derek just stops from reaching out and grabbing himself a handful.

When Stile's finishes his turn and is facing Derek again he gulps at the look in the man's eyes.

"So, may I start cleaning now?"

"Is it custom for a maid to speak like that?"

Jesus fuck Derek isn't going there, is he? Stiles wants to bolt, because yes, Derek is going there, and yes he's going to let the werewolf go there.

Stiles lowers his head and looks up through his lashes, "I'm sorry sir."

Something akin to a purr rumbles in Derek's chest at Stiles' submission, and he grins "If it happens again I may have to punish you."

"Will you, sir?" Stiles asks, stressing the 'sir' just enough to push, to challenge.

And Derek takes that challenge, "On your knees," he snarls.

Stiles is on his knees before he even has time to think about the fact that he obeyed and he's _on his knees_ in front of Derek, who has grabbed his jaw.

"Such a smart mouth," Derek muses, eyes dark, "I wonder if we can find another use for it."

Stiles sucks in a squeaky breath because this plan has so backfired and suddenly he's very on board with other uses for his mouth, and this is Derek motherfucking Hale.

"But first," the hand on his jaw moves to cup the back of his head, "I have something else I want to teach you."

In one of those annoying displays of strength and agility, Stiles is suddenly across Derek's lap, ass in the air, feeling the older man's boner through his jeans. Derek hums as his hands wander over the swell of Stiles' ass.

"Sir?" Stiles ventures.

"If you were truly mine you'd obey better."

"No I wouldn't," Stiles looks over his shoulder, teasing glint in his eye, "You like it when I defy you."

Which is remarkably true, but Derek really doesn't care right now because he has a hold of the back of one of Stiles' stocking clad thighs and is enjoying the texture under his palm. "I like these." And he caresses higher, to the hem of the skirt. "Now would be the time to stop me."

In response Stiles wiggles his ass. Actually freakin shakes his booty in Derek Hales' face, and yeah, he's so not going to be able to salvage the mess of that Derek is no doubt going to make of his stockings.

One finger trails upwards, causing goosebumps over the humans' skin. "What are you wearing with these, hmm?"

And oh yes, Derek was right, lacy panties that perfectly frame Stiles' ass. And not white, or black, but a nice deep purple.

"How fond are you of these?" Derek rumbles.

Stiles is about to say not very and let Derek shred them, but then he comes up with a better idea, "Here, let me," And he manages to get off the werewolf's lap, returning to his position standing in front of the couch.

After a deep breath to clear his head and steady his hands, because he's turned on so much that he's fucking shaking, Stiles reaches under the skirt and unhooks the stockings on his left leg. He steps out of the heel, and props his foot up next to Derek's thigh on the couch and slowly rolls the stocking down, revealing a pale, shaved leg. He repeats the process on the other leg, by which time Derek is panting.

Then, Stiles slides the panties down and discards them next to his stockings and heels, making it very obvious how on board with the program he is.

Derek grins, then slides off the couch to kneel in front of Stiles, and have we mentioned that this is Derek fucking Hale? Yeah, well it bears repeating.

"Beautiful" Derek breathes, nuzzling Stiles' hip and then the dress is getting rucked up again to let Derek swallow Stiles' dick.

Stiles is not responsible for the whoreish moan the comes out of his mouth, or the way he clutches Derek's head as the man goes down on him like damn. Okay, Stiles has never had anything but his own hand there, and Derek's doing this thing with his tongue and Stiles is really about to come embarrassingly fast but then Derek stops and sits back on the couch guiding Stiles to stand between his parted legs.

"I am going to fuck you," Derek rumbles, voice low and dirty, and no Stiles didn't whimper, "And then we're going to talk."

And yes, obviously there needs to be lots of talking, but Stiles is pretty much saying 'fuck off' to words and 'fuck yes' to getting banged by Derek right here right now.

"Promises promises," the teenager manages, and Derek just smirks in response, pulling Stiles down so he's straddling Derek's lap and their hard ons are grinding together.

"Suck," the commanding voice is back and yes okay fine, this time Stiles totally whimpers as he takes the fingers Derek is holding up into his mouth.

Somehow, Derek finds the patience to work Stiles fully open and loose and as a bonus turns the teenager into a babbling mess in his lap.

Stiles comes back into his body long enough to help Derek with the zipper of his jeans and then he's being lifted up because werewolves are strong like that and Derek's inside of him and its good.

It does burn, just a little, but Stiles really doesn't notice, what with the way Derek doesn't give him time to, the man just slides in, then right back out, and yes this is **fucking**. And Stiles' dress is still on, and Derek is still fully clothed, and yes there's something wrong with this being Stiles' first time, but he's a teenage boy that can blame hormones.

When it's over— which is much quicker than either Derek or Stiles would like— Stiles collapses against Derek's chest, and yes this is lovely. He nuzzles sleepily at the Alpha's neck. Derek chuckles.

"Talking later," Stiles replies to that chuckle, and Derek goes along with it, just reaches up a hand to pet the human's hair.

Which is how Scott finds them half an hour later.


End file.
